


There is no Light without Heat

by sunflower1343



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2109171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower1343/pseuds/sunflower1343
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akihito is jealous. Asami teaches him a lesson about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is no Light without Heat

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting all my old fics over here, warts and all. This is the very first story I ever wrote, written way back in 2005 for Dmnutv_archer on LJ. I owe a huge thanks to her for supporting my start in writing. It mentions but does not contain one of her characters from Heat (hence the title), a hot mafioso leader named Alessandro. In her story, Akihito is very jealous of the effect he seems to have on Asami. This is how I thought Asami would respond to that.

He stared at himself in the mirror and gave his tie a jerk. 

It still didn’t look right. Like it mattered anyway. 

The eyes that usually focused on him had been straying elsewhere all day, staying away longer each time as the day progressed. Whatever he had once possessed, it was obvious that someone else had it in greater quantity. 

Not that it mattered to him. It was a relief, really, not to feel that gaze – a gaze so keen it could dissect what he said from what he meant, his wants from his needs. At least he could enjoy an evening not feeling like an insect pinned for mounting.

“You’ve been in a mood all day.”

Hands reached around him to re-tie the tie, this time with practiced ease. He made a conscious effort not to shiver at the other’s nearness, but the effort in itself was a betrayal.

“I wonder what you’re thinking.”

Strong fingers tipped his chin up so their eyes met in the mirror. Stiff anger challenged arrogant amusement.

He didn’t reply, knowing an answer wasn’t required. Knowing it would only provide further amusement. Knowing their relationship had progressed beyond a need for words, and furious that such a thing must be so common to the other that it could be easily tossed aside for a flirtation with a married man that could go nowhere.

The amused eyes narrowed, as if what he was thinking had been heard.

The hands untied his tie once again. He started to protest. Fingers covered his lips.

“I want you to pay close attention, so that you may learn from this. This lesson never seems to stick with you Akihito, but it’s one that I’ll always enjoy teaching you.”

Before he realized what was happening, his wrists were bound with the tie which was then hooked over the mounting from which the mirror hung. He could barely touch the floor, leaving him off balance and totally at the mercy of the man pressing him against the mirror. Hands slid down his arms to his sides, then back up to rest around his neck. 

He shivered, no longer bothering to try to hold it in, not with this man. Even though he knew the man only thought of him as a quick pre-dinner fuck before the meal that he really desired. Yet even in his anger he wanted so intensely that he was ashamed, and he turned his head so he wouldn’t have to meet his own eyes in the mirror.

The other’s lips had thinned at his motion. Hands which had been loose about his neck tightened around his chin, and they forced his face back toward the mirror. The grip was tight enough to bruise. 

“Look at yourself.” 

One hand moved down to unbutton the shirt collar, parting the material so that he could see the pulse beating strongly there. Fingers lightly stroked it, then moved down to the next few buttons. The shirt spread wider now, material sliding over and past nipples to expose them to the cool air of the room. Fingers ghosted around them, never touching, and a moan he’d been holding back escaped. The fingers resumed their downward path as he whimpered in protest. He tried to turn his head to speak, but the hand at his chin firmly kept his gaze forward.

“Don’t turn from the mirror.” 

The fingers unbuttoned the last few buttons and glided across his waist as they pulled the shirt back. They moved randomly across his stomach and chest, dipping into his naval, lightly stroking his sides, and finally, finally, flicking across his hardened nipples. If he’d been standing on his own, his knees would have given out at the rush of pleasure.

“What do you see, Akihito?”

It took a moment to understand that a question had been asked, much less the words themselves. He wasn’t sure if he could answer even if he wanted to; he didn’t want to. This time his eyes were the ones that narrowed to a glare as he stared at the other’s reflection and remained silent.

He felt the sigh of the other on the back of his neck and then heard a soft chuckle.

“I see the lesson needs to continue.”

The hands, which had been still, resumed their gentle movement across his skin, stopping this time at his belt buckle. They unhooked it, careful not to brush the twitching bulge below it, and slid the belt from the loops on his pants. He moaned once again, this time at the motion and friction and heat of the leather moving around his waist, as he lifted his hips in an effort to make it brush the place he needed it most. 

An arm went around him, holding him motionless. Fingers moved to the top of his zipper. His breathing was quick and shallow. The fingers paused, and this time his whimper held despair.

“Tell me what you see, Akihito.”

He struggled, trying to remember why he was angry, trying to figure out what answer would move the fingers downward, hating himself for both.

“Please…”

It was the first time he’d spoken that evening. 

“That deserves some reward, I suppose.”

Long fingers pulled the zipper down, caressing him as they moved over him. A cry broke out of him. One hand pushed his pants to his thighs, the other lightly traced back up over the erection in his dampened briefs. Fingers once again teased, slipping under the edges of the legs to tugs at soft curls, their motion causing the material to move slightly across the straining flesh. He tipped his head back, eyes closed in pleasure.

Teeth bit his ear lobe. His eyes flew open.

“You really should learn to obey. Watch, Akihito. And don’t make me remind you again.”

His briefs were pushed down to join his pants. Because he obeyed for once, his eyes remained on the mirror and he was startled to see the other’s eyes track down his form, desire, possessiveness and not a little pride in them before they rose once more to meet his, again masked with calm and amusement, though too late.

Fingers once again distracted him, moving between his thighs, on that soft patch of skin in front of his anus, making him spread his legs as best he could and press into the touch. He felt the other’s body come close again, the now free erection brushing against his opening. Impatient, and not as helpless as he’d let himself pretend, he placed his forearms on the glass and heaved his body backwards as the other man surged forward.

Impaled, with back arched, his feet wrapped behind the other’s thighs and urged him forward. Depending on the strong arms about his waist to hold him in place, he desperately moved his hips, trying to keep his half-closed eyes fixed on the mirror. 

Show me. Show me what you _don’t_ want me to see. 

The response to his passionate attack overwhelmed him, driving him forward against the cold glass of the mirror, pushing him against the other Akihito, making it seem like he was fucking himself. His vision was full of himself, eyes clouded with emotion, cheeks flushed, skin damp with effort. And then he knew. Or maybe he always knew and was finally just admitting it. No one else would ever bring him to this point; no one could ever affect him this way but the man thrusting into him. And he couldn’t live without it. He tore his eyes from his own face to look at the other’s, for a moment as unguarded and lost as his own, and knew he wasn’t alone in this. The name spilled from his lips.

“Asami…”

Asami froze. His eyes flew open and searched for something in Akihito’s eyes, as deeply as he’d been thrusting into his body moments before. Akihito, unable to look away and not really wanting to anymore, caught glimpses of something – Triumph? Definitely. Pride? Possibly. And something else, elusive… Then too quickly Asami closed his eyes, rested his forehead on Akihito’s back, and began to thrust even more fiercely into him, this time a hand moving frantically on his cock. It pumped it once, twice more, and they came almost simultaneously.

Asami gently lowered him and untied his wrists, tossed the ruined tie aside with an unapologetic smirk, picked him up and carried him to the bath. He sank into the water, carrying Akihito with him. 

“We’re going to be late for dinner.”

Asami shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

“Ah? What!? What about the way you chased Alessandro all day? Why did you do that if you weren’t planning to finish what you started?”

A look of arrogant amusement flashed his way. “But I did finish what I started.”

He was quiet for a moment as he thought this over.

“You bastard. You did it to make me jealous.”

“I did it to teach you a lesson. What did you learn today Akihito?”

 _“More than you wanted me too,”_ he thought.

“I learned that maybe, just maybe, on occasion, in some strange way, I do belong to you.”

Asami smirked again.

Akihito continued, “And that maybe, just maybe, you occasionally belong to me.” 

Asami’s eyes widened, then narrowed. 

Akihito smirked. 

Alessandro was forgotten.

 

~end~


End file.
